Stillwater Ripples
by Cookie Krisp
Summary: She didn't care. She didn't care if she lived, or died, or just went on existing forever. Nothing mattered. Until she met him, and suddenly everything mattered too much. Because as much as she couldn't stop hating him, she couldn't stop caring about him either. EdxOC. Based on 2003 anime.


**Author's Note: **So, because I can, I am uploading more of my stories (which have been collecting dust on my computer)….

This fanfic is based on the 2003 anime, NOT the manga, and NOT Brotherhood.

This was an experiment on my part to see if I could write a cliché story but still make it interesting. So here you have almost every EdxOC cliché in the fandom compiled into one story. If you abhor clichés, I don't recommend this to you at all. If you love clichés, well here you go. It's your paradise.

On the other hand, if you have read almost every EdxOC in the fandom like I have, you should be able to recognize all the overused scenarios in this story. And you will probably feel really smart and genius-like when you get déjà vu all the time.

So expect the…expected?

**Disclaimer: I do not own FMA. Though I wish I did and I cry every time I realize I don't own Ed. (See I can even make a cliché disclaimer)**

**. . . **

**Chapter 1: **

**ONBOARD THE **_**BLACK BIRD**_

**Amestris**

**26. October. 1910**

Edward never believed in people having natural body aromas until he met her.

The first thought he has when he sees her is, _Hey, that girl is really pale. _The next thought he has …_she has white hair …._The third thought he has is, _The seats next to her are the only ones open_. And the fourth thought he has is, _"Well, I guess that's where we're going."_

"Come on, Al, we're going over there," Ed says, gesturing with his suitcase towards the only empty seats on the train. His feet clunk as he walks down the thin aisle, weaving around the legs of elderly people and stepping over stray luggage. As he walks, he mind wanders, as do his eyes—towards the girl they are headed towards.

Ed always thought white hair on people made them look older. He always thought it made them look…washed out. Gray. Dull. But….this girl….she has a tiny head. Actually, she is kind of small herself, not in the I'm-a-closet-midget kind of way, but in the kind of awkward I-never-hit-my-teenage-growth-spurt kind of way. Her arms are long and lithe protruding from the cloth of her long sweater, her fingers bony but dexterous. She's all bone and no cushion. Literally, she looks like he could kick her and she'd snap right in half.

Not that he would ever kick a girl.

Her hair is a different picture. While she seems lacking in body mass, her hair is definitely not deficient in any kind of mass. It's thick, heavy, and soft, like a blanket of white snow falling gently over her gaunt shoulders. It's long—longer than even Winry's (and he thought SHE was crazy), with the tips brushing the small of her back. Whoa.

He wonders if she's albino.

He thinks he sees her wearing glasses…or maybe sunglasses—they seem to have some sort of subtle grey tint to them, awfully dark against the pale of her skin. He can't see the color of her eyes behind the tinted shades.

Weird. But seriously. The closer he looks, the stranger she gets. She doesn't belong. She stands out like a sore thumb despite her silent demeanor, and that's what peaks his interest. Elegance and nobility seem to radiate off of her in waves.

Ed glances around and notices that people naturally gravitate away from her. It's almost as though they are pushed away by her strangeness. She doesn't seem to fit, with her white hair, quiet aura. She both sticks out and blends in. She blends in with the walls, the floors, the room—the dead things that don't move. She sticks out amongst the living, as if not belonging with those who are alive. It's weird.

Interesting.

And before he knows it, he is moving those inch-thick black combat boots of his across the floor with Al's hollow metal footsteps clunking along heavily behind him as they draw nearer to the girl. He stops in front of the booth. He pauses for a second, unsure of what to say.

There is a long silence.

"Hey, you," Ed barks out without a thought.

But the silence drags on.

_Crinp._ The girl turns a page in her book.

Behind him, Al starts snickering.

_That book better be a good one,_ Ed growls in his head. There's something about standing here talking to someone who doesn't even seem to know he exists, that's just a little bit annoying…and embarrassing. "Hey, stop ignoring me." He starts to glare and moves forward. "Yeah, you-

A small noise of acknowledgement comes from the girl. It's not even a word. Just…a noise.

Ed pauses.

She blinks up at him innocently through the large, gray lenses of her shades. It's like she doesn't know that she's totally humiliating him. And she has to look at him so doll-like too! Girls like that are freaking evil. This is why he doesn't hang around girls a lot. They just make him feel…awkward. Like he'll say something and they'll start sobbing their eyes out.

Winry doesn't count. She's like…a dude or something. Or his sister. She is NOT a girl. Really.

Ed opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. Shit. What was he going to say again?

"Awwww," Al coos softly behind him. "Brother's _blushing…"_

For someone who is usually quiet, Al sure can be annoying. Seriously, everyone thinks Al is the angel or something, who never causes any harm and is always sweet as sugar—well guess what? That is one big, fat LIE. All the girls think he is innocent, but he's just good at charming them. Unlike Ed, who always seems to end up making girl's sob in the end, Al is a total ladies' man, always getting them to smile at him and laugh. Al's been asked out a million and one times at school, and people would just flock him—whereas they'd avoid Ed like the plague. According to Al, he's too "intimidating" or something. Bull.

Al just likes to rub it in his face.

Ed's little brother is evil, _absolutely_ evil when he wants to be. Like now. He needs to shut up. Right now.

"Shut up, Al," Ed hisses back.

If Al had a face, he would be smirking. "She's _staring _at you, Brother," Al whispers mischievously. "I think she likes you…or thinks you're crazy."

Ed flushes and little but scoffs. He's not interested in girls at the moment, but Al always was a little girl crazy. He glances over his shoulder. Indeed, the girl is looking at him. She doesn't look away. Just frowns slightly, but again says nothing. Her gaze is steady and penetrating, and under the intensity of it, he finds _himself_ looking away.

"Brother, what are you doing?" Al hisses. "When you're trying to pick up a girl, you're supposed to stare into her eyes. Not look away like she's toxic or something!"

Ed starts glaring at the girl. He's seriously starting to get annoyed with her. Her and her stupid big, staring eyes. (To be honest, they scare him a little. He feels a little like one of those bad dreams where he goes to school in underpants. Like she can see straight through him.)

If it weren't for her, Al wouldn't be being a total ass right now. His younger brother obviously thinks Ed needs to flirt a little to loosen up, and some stranger is perfect for that, because they are never going to see her again. Al thinks Ed needs a little of "no strings attached". Ed thinks not.

The girl is still staring.

"What are you staring at?!" Ed growls suddenly at the girl.

The girl does not even flinch. Her face does not change. Her eyes do not blink. Like a doll, she turns back to her book and keeps reading without a word.

He starts to feel like an overreacting idiot.

And Al seems to be getting a kick out of this.

Ed's chest gurgles in anger. It's all her fault. This is why he hates girls. And dolls. "You're ignoring me now?" Ed demands, leaning forward and, in a sudden burst of frustration and desperation to save his manhood, yanks the book out of her hands. "Is this book that great?"

The girl stares down at her empty hands for a moment blankly, before looking up at him. Her face has changed slightly, her eyebrows furrowing. "What?" she murmurs softly. Her words are as forceful as…pillows. They're like her appearance, delicate, sharp, but weak and fragile-sounding. "I want my book…back. Um," she pauses, momentarily puzzled, "please," she finishes, sounding extremely unsure.

She sounds more like a wounded puppy than anything else, gazing at him with those confused doe eyes. There's just something about this girl that screams, 'pick-on-me-pick-on-me!" She just has this…victim look to her. Like some stupid damsel in distress.

Wimp.

Ed smirks to himself and raises the book over his head. "You're not getting this back, book-worm," he tells her. Ed opens it and the cover falls open to reveal pages and pages of black-printed words…not in Amestrian. He makes a face. "What the hell? What language is this?"

The girl is staring at the book. "Aerugan…"

Ed looks at her weirdly. Isn't she going to freak out and try to take the book back? He's trying to provoke her, and she isn't reacting the way she's supposed to. Seriously, if she keeps acting like this, he's going to end up looking like an idiotic jerk instead of her. "Then are you illiterate in Amestrian?" he sneers condescendingly. _She's gotta be_, he thinks. She's only…what? Twelve, thirteen? She can't be that much older than him.

See, in Amestris, people usually only know one language—Amestrian. There just isn't a need to know any others. And this girl looks like she's never been outside of her house, so how would she know all these languages fluently? Even if she can speak Amestrian, she probably can't read it. She's not a traveler—she _can't_ be fluent in both.

That's his reasoning, anyway.

But the girl is a contradiction.

"Um, I'm fluent." She leans back against the back of her seat, cowering slightly. She flicks her eyes up to him curiously. "Which makes me multilingual, I guess….Are you?"

What? "….Yeah…totally! I..uh…." He laughs nervously. "I speak…Ch…Chowa…Chowanese!"

The girl frowns, tilted her head to the side. "…Chow…what?"

Al's laughter starts up again.

"Sh-shut up!" Ed growls, flushing with anger.

The girl looks at him strangely.

Al laughs harder.

What the hell? What a rude girl. "What are you looking at?" Ed demands for the second time. "You're weird," he sneers, "and quit staring. It's creepy."

"…Sorry." The girl seems to wilt under his glare. Her eyes flicker to the window, and she sinks into the chair, her tiny body seeming almost to melt into the cushion and disappear.

And then he realizes something else. She smells good, like some kind of flower or something—he means, like crap. Yeah, like dog manure. She's a dog-face with dog-eyes who smells like dog-shit.

Ed slowly puts the book back down on the table and clears his throat, trying to cover his awkwardness with strength. "Anyway, we need a place to sit," Ed snaps with a magnificent scowl contorting his face. "And these are the only seats. So don't think we actually want to be here or anything, because we don't exactly have a choi—

"Brother!" Al hisses from behind Ed. He seems to finally have had enough. The armor is no longer laughing, but has turned back to the charming side all the girls know him as. Al seems almost to blush as he hushes his seething brother and hurriedly turns to apologize to the girl. "I'm sorry for my brother's rude behavior. He's just upset, because we almost missed the train." He bows and drops his head submissively.

If Al weren't armor, Ed would punch him.

"Not true!" Ed argues futilely. "That's—

Al frowns disapprovingly and sends him _the look_. The, you're-going-to-make-the- girl-cry-and-if-you-do-I'll-punch-you-for-it-later look. And no, Ed is _not _making this up. (Let's just say it's actually happened before) .

Ed shuts up instantly.

Hell hath a younger brother's fury.

"I'd get it if you're uncomfortable with us here, but like my brother said, there's nowhere else to sit, so…um…"

She nods.

Al is quiet, looking at her for an answer.

"…Okay." She looks down, her eyelashes brushing the tips of her sharp cheekbones.

Ed refrains from growling. What the hell? So when he asks, the girl basically ignores him. But when Al asks, she complies without a second of hesitance? He starts to glare at the girl. Great, now that the two are sitting together, they're probably going to get all cozy and friendly, while Ed sits alone and glares moodily out the window.

Because yes, Ed would know.

That's happened before too.

Even though Al's a suit of armor, he still gets all the girls. Apparently the girls think there's some handsome guy inside there. A knight in shining armor. What the hell? It's not fair. Being the one without chicks sucks. Big time.

…Not that Ed cares or anything.

But as Al slips into the seat across from her, she doesn't even look up from her book. Her eyes just keep scanning the words on the paper, without glancing up once. Somehow that makes Ed angry too, maybe even more so than if she _had _looked up and gave his younger brother a smile.

Does she think they're so insignificant that they don't even deserve a second of her attention?

Ed grinds his teeth together, holding in a scathing remark. He feels a vein popping in his forehead, but struggles to keep his flaring anger inside him as he slides into the seat next to the girl. He makes sure to sit as far away from her as possible.

The tantalizing scent of bluebells and buttercups wafts through the air. Sitting next to her is like sitting next to a living _air_ freshener. Why is that scent so damn intoxicating, anyway?

Ed realizes a bit belatedly that he has been unconsciously leaning towards the girl. Snapping out it, he straightens up and crosses his arms against his chest, frowning deeply.

Al, now sitting across from Ed and the girl, glances between the two with amusement. His metal armor rattles every time the train happens upon a bump, and Ed can tell it's making him a bit jittery. The hollow sound reverberating through the armor makes Ed's hair stand on end, for it's this kind of thing that can get them revealed, this kind of thing that they don't really want people to find out.

The tense silence that hovers in the air is a stale mildew growing in their compartment. Ed risks a glance at her, but she doesn't seem to notice. She's not even looking at them. Still stuck in that book. And she turns the page in her book.

Ed has one thought.

That book must be one hell of a thriller.

"Hey, Brother, that girl is really pretty, don't you think?" Al whispers at Ed teasingly. "You and her would go perfect together….as long as you didn't already scare her away."

Ed bristles and struggles to hide his blush. He jerks away from his brother and scowls. "No way!" He notices Al sneaking another glance at the girl. Ed uses it as an excuse to look at her too, and tells himself it is not an excuse at all.

She's still reading, seemingly completely absorbed in the book.

_Don't know what's so special about her anyway_…Ed mutters to himself in his head. _Why's Al fawning over her so much? She's not pretty at all…just weird looking. she's not even nice! _He huffs. _ Probably thinks she's too good for us. _

Ed looks at her and looks past the flickering, white eyelashes delicately brushing her high, defined cheekbones- he looks past her skin-deep –and tries to see into her head. She just looks so silent and icy that he can't help but wonder what the hell is going on inside her head.

"So, what's the book about?" Al speaks up, turning back to the girl.

The girl pauses before lifting her eyes. She gazes at Al through her lenses silently.

"I-I mean, only if you want to tell me," Al stutters. He rubs the back of his head and ducks his chin into his chest bashfully. "You just looked so interested in it…I thought it has to be good."

For a moment, Ed is convinced the girl is going to ignore Al, but just as he thinks that, she looks back down at the book and pauses before speaking. "…It's…okay," she comments thoughtfully. She fingers the flimsy book in her hands. "It's kind of short, I think."

_Short….. Short. …..Short….._

"WHO THE HELL—

Ed finds his words cut off as Al reaches forward, grabs his brother and holds his metal hand tightly over Ed's mouth, muffling his words to mere squeaks.

"Ahahahaha!" Al laughs, clearly forcing it. "That's so funny, Miss…um…" He trails off nervously.

The girl says nothing.

Ed finally manages to rip Al's hand off his mouth. "He's asking for your name, idiot," he says, gasping slightly.

"Um…I… am not obliged to disclose such personal information to a pair of strangers," she rushes out, sinking deeper into the seat.

Still looking at her book.

_Silence…_

Then she opens the book and picks up where she last left off, her eyes scanning the pages again and her attention completely absorbed.

Ed glares. _I hope she gets a paper cut_, he thinks. _A big one. One that bleeds a lot._

And so the compartment falls into another chasm of silence. This time, Ed is the one to break it. But not because he's bored. …Okay, maybe it _is_ because he's bored.

_Bluebells and buttercups_…such a faintly sweet, but tangy aroma…fresh and rejuvenating, not fake, but-how does he know what those smell like anyway? Ed blames Winry—her and her stupid friends tried to plant a flower garden once. Of course, they ended up killing all the plants after the first winter, but he still remembers their smell…because at her birthday party, Winry shoved them up his nose.

"You smell bad," Ed insults, wrinkling his nose.

Al sends him a disapproving look.

Ed ignores it. _Revenge,_ he thinks, smirking evilly in his head.

"…Sorry?" the girl murmurs, frowning slightly, and then flips the page of her book. The silence resumes.

Ed feels himself deflating. He resists the urge to groan and just slumps deeper into his seat. Because the girl does not react. How can he have fun insulting when there isn't a reaction?

"You're so mean!" Al whines next to him, in whisper-yell. "Are you_ trying_ to be a jerk?"

Ed rolls his eyes. "Shut it, Al. It's annoying." Then he turns his back to the suit of armor and huffs loudly. He huffs and seethes and sulks for quite a while. The clock on the train says it's been four hours since the train left the station in Xenotime. _Two more hours,_ Ed thinks to himself.

Boredom sets in quickly. So, Ed takes to playing a game with himself and the other passengers, called Glare. The goal of the game is to glare at random people until they get intimidated and look away. It's basically another ploy to add onto Ed's ego, at least, that's what Al says anyway. _He's wrong though, very wrong,_ Ed tells himself. _I'm a humble, modest man._

Right.

His mind begins to wander…

…**What am I doing here? **

Ed partakes in his little game of glaring at the people across the aisle form them. The man tenses, but the women don't seem to notice. He glares harder at the back of men. A strange sense of satisfaction flows through him when he notices the man start to sweat nervously.

Memories begin spinning around his head.

**I'm just twelve and Al's only eleven. What the hell are we going to the military for?**

On the outside, Ed is still glaring at the man. _Ha!_ he thinks, _I'll bet you anything he's scared of me. Scared of the big bad Edward Elric. _He almost snickers.

**I don't want to be a dog. **

The sound of another page turning reminds him of the presence of the girl sitting in the seat beside him.

**I don't want to join the military. **

This time Ed is the one who finds himself tensing.

**I don't want to be a tool.**

_Because…_

**I don't want to… but…**

_Because….I…_

He stares at the woman across the aisle. Two children sit on both sides of her, grinning and laughing up at her, occasionally reaching over the woman's lap to poke each other in the stomach. The mother just sits in the middle and laughs, her hands made busy peeling the red skin off an apple.

His eyes defocus and his mind begins to wander…back…back…back…..

_The military. The house. Fire, snuffing his ears and stifling his mind. Heat. The house. A grave. A woman with beautiful brown hair and a smile so warm it could melt ice. A longing in his soul, a tugging his mind. A sudden aching in his temples, an urge to scream, a tornado in his head._

**It's not fair. **

His eyes start to burn. His shoulder tense. **I didn't choose this. ** He has an urge to hit something, to cover his ears. **I didn't mean to.** He doesn't though, just sits there and glares, harder and harder and harder till he feels like he's going to blow. **I just wanted to…**

_Swirling, swinging, screeching. I'm sorry Al. I'm sorry Al. _Crinp. _ I'm sorry, sorry—millions of tiny black hands, grabbing, taking, stealing—a gate, a white TRUTH, a lie, _Crinp _a smile, pain pain pain—sorry sorry sorry _Crinp _Al's gone what do i—we lsot everything and gained nothing. I'm sorry I asked for it I'm sorry I—_

Crinp.

_I just wanted to see mom smile. _

_IT'S NOT FAIR_

Crinp.

"WOULD YOU QUIT THAT ALREADY?!"

Ed explodes, literally. Steam is practically rolling out of his ears. He feels his face red with frustration and his fists tightened into stones of irritation. He stomps forward, rips the book from the girl's hands, and thrusts it to the ground. Out of the corner of his mind, he can vaguely hear Al yelling at him to stop. His feet thud against the ground and he reaches forward, hands curling around the collar of the girl's sweater.

Ed starts to yell something, but he can't hear himself. He says something—he doesn't know what. He shakes the girl, but he doesn't look at her eyes. He doesn't look at anything—or maybe he does, and he just isn't seeing it.

His fury clouds his senses like smog, a thick, gray suffocating smoke that locks him in the fiery, burning recesses of his own mind. His vision goes black and his hearing dead and he finds himself moving like a robot, but trapped in his own thoughts.

His own mind.

His own hell.

And Ed starts to think.

_What. The hell. Am I doing? _

He's not even angry about the book pages…well, at first he was, but then it became something else, and then that became something bigger, and now…now…now he's angry about everything.

He's just so…so…-he doesn't even know how to describe it. It's like his mind is on overload, filled with so many questions and answers that don't match up, all these crazy words floating around in his head in one big jumbled cloud, and that one cloud keeps expanding and expanding, until suddenly, one little thing adds to the cloud and it makes the whole thing pop and surge out of him like in one big, fiery deluge.

He's angry at the irritating noise of the pages grating on his thin nerves. He's angry at the girl's nonchalant attitude. He's angry at himself. He's angry at his shortness, his temper. He's angry that he doesn't have a house anymore; he's angry that he burned it down. He's angry that he told Al to burn it down with him; he's angry that he took Al with him on this stupid, stupid journey. He's angry that he was too selfish to want to fight on his own; he's angry that he couldn't leave Al behind, even though he knew it would have been better for him to live a normal life. He's angry that he left Winry crying alone, he's angry that Pinako screamed at them before they left. He's angry that that bastard Hohenheim never came to his mother's funeral. He's angry that she had to die in the first place. He's angry that life isn't fair. He's angry that his life sucks so much; he's only twelve and has to go through all this crap. He's angry that at twelve he's going to join the military. He's angry that at twelve he's about to become a murdering tool for the government. He's angry that that's so messed up.

And now he's even angry that he's angry for no reason at all.

Slowly, his anger dies. _The hell am I doing?_ he wonders. Ed pauses. He realizes he's just been standing there for a while now, with his hand around the girl's collar. He droops visibly, his shoulder suddenly heavy and his chest too tight. He lets out a heavy breath, expelling all the anger from his body and leaving only guilt. There, his grip loosens until his hands drops down to his side. His head falls and his bangs flop over his eyes. _Al's right. I'm a jerk. _

"Sorry," he mutters.

But the girl says nothing.

Ed slowly looks up. "I said I'm sorr-

"…Hohen…heim?"

The moment his eyes meet hers, he knows something is off. Her eyes are wider than he's ever seen before, her pupils small in the pool of shock that is her eyes. She's staring at him, shocked. The breath seems to have been knocked out of her, and her words are weak. Stuttering. Unsure. They seem almost to ride the breeze and float over to him. "Are you…" she struggles out airily. "Are you….N-no…no…" A flash of fear passes through her eyes. Her voice shakes.

Wait a second.

Did she just say…._Hohenheim?_

Ed jumps up to his feet immediately. His eyes are wide and his face filled with a mixture of ice and fire. "Hohenheim?" Ed repeats. He spits the name like flames. A dragon, he is, a merciless, enraged one just ready to go on a rampage. "What the hell? How do you know that bastard? What do you know about him?" Why is she looking at him like he's his father? Does he really look that much like him? How does she know him? What does she know?

The girl stiffens like a board and jerks back, alarmed. Fear freezes over her face like frost over the tumbling, blubbering winter ocean. "W-William?" she stutters this time. "No-Envy? But I thought…you…I…" Her chest seems to be caving in on itself. "I thought you hated that face. So why…" She refocuses her eyes on his face, and he feels her gaze moving up and down him, memorizing his face, scanning his features. "Why…"

For a moment she stops breathing. Her eyes freeze on his face. Frozen there, and something flashes across her face. A hitch in her breath. A violent shudder ripping through her body. A pause in her movement. A flinch.

"Why use that face?" she strains in a thick whisper, looking away. At the ground.

Ed pretends not to notice. Instead, fresh flames spark in his blood. "What the hell are you talking about?" Ed spits. "And who the hell is William? I'm Edward Elric, and that's my brother Alphonse Elric." He takes a step forward and looms over the girl, shoulders tight and fists clenched, angry balls at his side. She tenses more, flinching violently. He presses her further. "Stop avoiding the subject. Tell me what you know about Hohenhei—

"Wait!" she interrupts feebly. He glares at her and she looks away for a moment before meeting his gaze hesitantly. "Your name is…. Edward?"

"Yeah, are you deaf?" Ed opens his mouth, but—

Her gaze is heavy now, no longer the unsure flickers, but a full on, heavy stare. She's staring at him, staring at him so intensely, the words simmer and sear in his mouth before blowing out into nothing more than steam. Not even a spark of anger is left.

Her head drops and she looks down at her book, eyes no longer visible behind her wispy white bangs and gray sunglasses. "Oh. I… see, I understand now….that's how it is…" her voice is strained, but cold. If he listens close enough, he thinks he can almost hear a slight, very slight, but unstable tremor hidden in her words.

She swallows so heavy he can hear the lump rolling down her throat. "Um…Edward. S…sorry...you look a lot like him so I…mistook you…."

Before Ed can get anything more out of her, the girl's got her book open again and is reading it like it's the holy bible.

Ed opens his mouth, preparing to bombard her with questions. "What—you can't just brush-

Al shoves him. Ed turns to glare at him for cutting him off, but Al shushes him and gestures discreetly at the girl's hands. Ed turns to look.

Her hands….

No, not just her hands…her entire body is shaking. Trembling. Her shoulders are shuddering, her chin is ducked into her chest. She's biting her lip hard, and she's so tensed her muscles are straining to the point of shaking. Her hair is falling in front of her face like a thick curtain, shielding her and blocking her from view. She looks like she's sinking into herself. Her fingernails are digging into the book so hard she's leaving marks. Her knuckles are stark white.

It strikes Ed for the first that she…she…

She looks _terrified. _

…Maybe he could lay off.

Slowly, Ed leans back. "Whatever," he mutters. He takes a couple small, stumbling steps backwards until he bumps into his seat. Then he sighs heavily, sits down, puts his elbow on the window sill, and stares not at the blurry, green figures of the passing trees, but the girl's reflection in the window.

It's been ten minutes, he notices.

She has yet to turn the page.

. . .

In which OC seems like a Mary-Sue, Ed has severe mood swings, and cliche situations occur.

Review pleeeeeease!

Can you pick out the clichés? If you can, tell me in your reviews! Haha, it's like a Where's Waldo game, except without…pictures…yeah.


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